


Harlan & Palmer

by pi_meson



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Buddy Cop AU, F/F, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-06-07
Packaged: 2018-04-03 08:30:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4094062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pi_meson/pseuds/pi_meson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Detective Harlan has to take on a new partner. Chief McDaniels says so. He is not happy that it is Palmer, a figure from his past, because they have history that defies memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harlan & Palmer

**Author's Note:**

> From a tumblr prompt - cosleia said: Cecearl, buddy cop au
> 
> I will update tags as I write so the tags will be a bit ahead of what I post.
> 
> I have no idea yet how far I will take this but I am utterly in love with the idea.  
> Set your cliché-counter!

Earl scowled. Hiram scowled five times harder.  
"You listen good son, you will take on this new partner and you will make it work. You got that?"  
Earl rolled his eyes. "Yessir. I'm a very experienced babysitter. Better stock the car with pampers and wipes."  
Hiram took a deep breath. "New guy is here. Play nice. You screw this up and you're the one looking at a transfer to Desert Bluffs. I hear they run a tight ship over there."  
Earl went cold. He'd heard stories too. Nightmares, mostly. He sat up in his chair and smoothed his favourite khaki shirt. 

Hiram waved at the door. Earl refused to turn and look as the door opened and closed. He did not turn to greet his new partner until the man spoke. Earl closed his eyes and groaned.  
"Earl? Earl! Wow, I never thought I'd be working with Earl Harlan again! This is so... so... NEAT!"  
Hiram smiled. "Sit down, Palmer. So, you remember Harlan from the academy?" Palmer grinned and nodded.  
"We were best friends for, oh, the longest time. Then we kinda drifted apart. But this is so awesome! Thank you for teaming us up together, Captain McDaniels. I won't let you down." Palmer glanced sideways at Earl, who had turned his head slightly away, and dropped the puppydog act. "Either of you."

Earl had to face Cecil eventually. They stood outside the captain's office and eyed each other warily.  
"You've done really well, Earl, accelerated promotion and a cool nickname. It's nice to get the chance to work with you again... Scoutmaster Harlan!" Cecil smiled, but it appeared as more of a nervous grimace.  
"Huh." Earl shrugged. "I worked my ass off for this. Had to after you... Ugh, come on. We have to go to the labs to talk forensics. I'll describe the case you just landed in on the way. We've a new wheat smuggling gang trying to move in. It's our job to find the ringleader and stop them. Case files are on my desk for later."

Earl led Cecil to the elevators. They were alone as Earl pushed B and the doors closed.  
"Aren't you going to ask me what I've been doing while your career took off?" Cecil watched Earl's profile.  
"No, I know most of it. McDaniels gave me the edited highlights. You did an extra year at the academy's International branch after our finals, you worked in traffic as penance for someone you did there and got transferred to vice because of your unnerving ability to talk people into confessing." Earl stared at the numbers in the panel above the door, counting down.  
Cecil laughed. "What can I say. People trust my voice." Just before the doors opened into the basement labs, Cecil caught Earl's eyes. "Look, I know we went through a difficult time back then but can't you forget about it? I know I have." Cecil gave a nervous laugh. "Start over?"  
Earl frowned and looked away. "We don't all have such a conveniently selective memory as you, Palmer." 

They walked out of the elevator and through the swing doors into the labs. Someone approached.  
"Detective Harlan? I have your results here. It is very scientifically interesting how..."  
Cecil stared. He trotted along behind Earl and the forensic scientist, watching how their hair bobbed and swished as they walked and talked with Earl. Cecil allowed his eyes to drift down the length of the scientist's pristine lab coat to the jeans, a little frayed at the hems, and safety boots.  
"Palmer!"  
Cecil shook himself out of his daydream. "Huh? Earl?"  
"This is Carlos, head of the forensics team assigned to our case." Earl turned back to the scientist, whom Cecil now knew to be Carlos. "This is Cecil Palmer, my new partner."  
Cecil grinned and stuck out his hand. Carlos the scientist took it and shook it.  
"That's, um, detective partner, not partner partner." Cecil felt the room spin slightly.  
"Hi Cecil, so nice to meet you. I'm Carlos, I'm pretty new here too. This is the most scientifically interesting case I have ever worked on. Time doesn't fit and I'm trying to track down a house that does not exist based on sand particles, insect remains and pollen!"  
Cecil released Carlos's hand with reluctance. He smiled as he studied a strong jaw and perfect teeth that showed so often when the scientist smiled. Carlos spoke to Earl for another minute, passed him a slim, buff folder and turned again towards Cecil.  
"Well, I'm sure we will meet again real soon, Cecil. I better get back to my science work. There is so much to do here!" Carlos grinned and shook his head as he walked off. "So. Much. Science!"

Cecil watched Carlos until he ducked into a lab, out of sight. Earl watched Cecil.  
"So, next time you should maybe listen to what the scientist says instead of mentally undressing him."  
"What? No!" Cecil felt his stomach drop and heat rise. "I was not doing that!"  
Earl sniggered. "Whatever. Come on, back upstairs. I'll take you through the evidence."  
All the way up in the elevator, Cecil speculated silently on what might be under that lab coat. 

Earl took Cecil through the evidence piece by piece, detailing names and dates, suspects and suspect alibis, who the ringleaders probably were and who were merely henchpeople or hangers on. Earl informed Cecil they were going to see one of his informants that evening. Cecil smiled and nodded, took notes, said _gotcha_ and _neat!_ a few times. When his briefing was over, Earl asked Cecil what he thought about the case so far.  
Cecil leaned his hand on his chin. "Mmm. We need more evidence, _scientific_ evidence. Mmhmhm. That forensic scientist, Carlos--" Cecil stopped and cleared his throat to get his voice back to its usual pitch after almost singing the name. "Um, Carlos seems very clever. I bet he's real hands-on. With evidence. Scientifically speaking." Earl saved his eye-roll until after Cecil added, "I'd be happy to liaise with the forensic science department for you. I'm _really_ into science, you know."

A call came in from the hospital just as Earl suggested coffee and doughnuts before heading out to see his snitch. He opened the door of their little office and yelled.  
"CADET!"  
A uniformed cadet slunk into the room.  
"Sir?"  
"Ah, Cadet Chad. This is Palmer, my new partner. I want you to come on a call with us to the ER then get some experience dealing with informants. You got any other clothes? I'll ask McDaniels to assign you to us tomorrow. No uniforms from now on. Meet us by my car."  
Chad nodded and scooted away to change.

On the way to the parking garage, Cecil's talk was of scientists. Also he mentioned perfect hair with a premature but distinguished touch of grey, strong jawline, teeth as white and even as... Earl groaned at the comparison to a military cemetery, and a voice like... Earl stopped listening.  
"You have not changed, Cecil. You have a type." Earl wagged a finger at his partner.  
"I have changed! I was sent to Europe for a month or... something like that. I learned to blend in."  
Earl choked back a laugh. "I heard all about you in Europe. Met a scientist, I heard. Got assigned to traffic because..."  
Cecil shrugged. "Met a lot of people. They were mostly very friendly."  
Earl unlocked the car and Cecil got in. Quietly, Earl added, "you have a type, Ceece, but I'm not it."  
Cadet Chad arrived and got in Earl's car wearing his normal clothes. 

The trip to the ER was to talk to a patient brought in with acute gluten intolerance. The on call medics were adamant that it was an overdose, although they couldn't yet say whether it was a deliberate attempt at death by sandwich or the accidental ingestion of wheatflour in a traybake, since the ambulance had picked up the patient at a party. Earl looked at the unconscious girl with tubes in her nose and mouth.  
"Poor kid. Who would be driven to an act like this?"  
Chad hung back. Cecil shrugged.  
Earl sighed. "We won't get anything out of her tonight. Chad, this is what wheat smuggling does. It ruins lives, rips apart families, kills communities." He glanced at Cecil. "Destroys friendships."

Cecil's phone rang. The medics shoo-ed him out of the ER to take the call outside. He returned and called for Chad.  
"Here's a good assignment for a cadet! Chad, I want you to go to the discount sports good store and check it out. Be casual, buy a tennis racquet or something, and ask if they have any _special by-product_ Got that? Tell them you want _by-products._ Stay safe, back out if it gets dangerous and meet us... Earl?"  
"Back at the station. We won't be spending too long at the Dark Owl Music Bar. It's jazz night."  
Cecil shuddered. "Fine. Chad, what are you to do?"  
Chad frowned. "Buy a tennis racquet and ask for special buy products."  
Cecil nodded and waved Chad away. Once the cadet was out of earshot, Cecil turned to Earl.  
"Buy you a drink at the Dark Owl? I get the feeling there are a few things we need to talk about."

Cecil drove. The Dark Owl was buzzing and music, if that's what it was, blared from the tiny stage where a band made notes chase each other in a pattern that sounded random until you really listened until your eardrums caved in with the effort. They perched on bar stools. Earl called the bartender over. Cecil smiled and signed above the din. "Two margaritas please and can you tell me what time the melody starts?"  
The bartender scowled and signed back.  
"Melody phoned it in today. I'm your bartender." She gave the biggest, fake smile and pointed to her name badge.  
_Hi, I'm Michelle. I'm your bartender today!_  
Except the word _bartender_ was scored out and _OWNER!_ was thickly written above it.  
She continued to sign at Cecil. "What else do you want?"  
Cecil smiled and shouted. "GOT ANY WOODY GUTHRIE? THIS IS CRUEL AND UNUSUAL AND BORDERLINE ILLEGAL."  
Michelle shrugged and yelled back. "WELL DUH! THERE WOULDN'T BE TONIGHT! THIS DRUMMER IS OKA-AY I GUESS." She grabbed Cecil's hand and placed it palm down on the bar top. Cecil felt the vibrations from the drums and nodded.

Michelle slammed their drinks in front of them. Earl passed her some cash flat across the bar. Cecil's eyes watered at the quantity.  
"This settle our tab? Get yourself one and come join us for your break. Keep the change."  
Earl slid off his barstool and sat at a high sided booth. Cecil followed.  
"Michelle is your... _Michelle?"_  
"Think about it, Ceece, she runs the best dive in town. Look around, stick your head out. Everyone is here. She hears _everything."_ Earl frowned. "You wanted to talk."

Cecil sighed and made eye contact with his partner. "Earl, we used to be friends. Can we get over ourselves and be friends again? Not like we were, obviously, but... _friends?_ As in _not enemies_ and _not indifferent_ or something?"  
Earl frowned deeper. "Do you even remember why we stopped being friends, Cecil?"  
Cecil shook his head. "To tell you the truth, no I don't. We graduated together then I went to Europe on placement and when I got home you weren't taking my calls."  
Earl's frown changed. His eyebrows lifted high and he peered at Cecil over his margarita glass. "You forgot about the row we had over... stuff? You leaving? Me covering for you after finding croissant crumbs in your bed? Me even _being_ in your bed?"  
Cecil shook his head slowly. "I don't remember that at all!"  
Earl scowled. "So when you screwed that Svitzian scientist you didn't remember you had me waiting for you back home? Shit Cecil, that's harsh."  
Earl sat back and stared into his glass. Cecil leaned forward and stared at Earl.  
"I swear, I don't remember any of that. I remember orange milk and shouting at the moon and... and being in Francia terrified that someone was following me."  
Earl snapped. "Dammit, Ceece, we were close. You could have confided in me about your pastry habit. I would have helped you. But you hid it, you lied to me, you OD-ed and forgot all about me. I might forgive you, but I can't forget. I wish I could and this would be easier." 

Cecil sat back, mouth hanging open. "Wait, I had a _wheat habit?"_  
Earl nodded slowly. "Only the good stuff. Croissants. Brioche..." Earl's gaze bored holes into Cecil's eyes. "...pancakes. Not every day or even every week, but Ceece, when the craving took you there was no stopping you. No amount was enough until you lay groaning and clutching your stomach with maple syrup dribbling from your mouth. But you said you'd beaten it. You swore you were clean. You lied. To me."  
Cecil covered his face with his hands, took a deep breath and shook his head. "Earl, I don't quite believe it but it explains a few things. Please believe me when I say I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to forget."

Michelle joined the two silent men a few minutes later. She brought two more margaritas and a small tray with a cloth over it.  
"Well go on then, look at what I brought you. Not that you'd care or anything." Michelle pretended to look away but her eyes strained to stay on the tray as she downed one of the drinks and pushed the other towards Cecil. Cecil lifted a corner of the cloth. Earl's hand slapped down on top of Cecil's.  
"No! Not you. In case..." Earl leaned forwards and hissed softly in Cecil's ear, "...relapse. You know."  
Cecil's mouth shaped an "Oh!" and he sat back. Earl looked at the contents of the tray.  
"Michelle, where _exactly_ did this cinnamon roll come from?"


End file.
